


Body and Blood

by LadyMorgue



Category: Ninety-Nine Righteous Men (Webcomic)
Genre: A Hail Mary at an incovenient time, Choking, Church Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, FaceFucking, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Improper use of Bible passages, Knifeplay, Menstrual Sex, Name-Calling, Prayer, Rape/Non-con Elements, That's Also Not How You Use an Altar, Unethical use of a confessional, Verbal Humiliation, very hedonistic probably ooc and very gross but to hell with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorgue/pseuds/LadyMorgue
Summary: You decide to search for a little absolution but a certain Priest has other ideas





	Body and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> It's a Christmas Miracle! I started this in April but I finally got around to finishing it, I hope you enjoy it ♡

You stood face to face with the large wooden doors of the cathedral in front of you. Honestly you weren't quite sure why you were here in the first place. You'd never been super religious, hell you'd dabbled with atheism a few times in your life but it felt like another one of those points where it was time to get back in the Good Lord’s graces.

You pushed the heavy doors open and they gave a low long creak. Worried that your plan of sneaking in was defiled you peeked your head in. It seemed empty so you walked in.

The large room was silent. The tall stained glass windows accompanying the high ceilings threw splashes of reds, yellows and blues across the carpeting. Dust motes lingered between the pews. It smelled of wood and dust but it wasn't dirty. Just old. Used. 

You made your way to the altar at the front. Eyeing the candles and crucifix you almost didn't notice the click of a door handle in the distance. You turned your head and met the gaze of a man. 

He was much older with brilliant white hair, gaunt cheekbones and vibrant red eyes. You almost felt like he didn't belong in a church but according to his cassock and the fact he was coming from the office, he very much did belong here.

“Ah I thought I heard the door,” he began. “You look like a fresh face. I’m Father Tiefer. Mass begins at 5 and I'll be in the confessional shortly after. Should you need anything I'll be preparing.” A peak of a cajun accent slipping through.

You gave a tight but courteous smile. You were nervous enough being in here as it was you weren't sure you could step foot in the “box of shame” your parents had coined it. But mass shouldn't be too bad. 

You checked your phone and the clock read 4:45. Shouldn't be too long now. You had a seat in the row of pews furthest in the back and watched the tall, lithe man light the candles and arrange the altar. He set the bible on the stand and began searching for tonight's passage. Just about then, tonight's parishioners began filing in to the empty seats. 

“Good evening,” Father Tiefer drawled. “If you would be so kind as to follow along with us tonight you can grab a bible from the back of the pew in front of you and turn to Leviticus.”

The silent room soon filled with the sounds of the congregation quickly turning their pages. Once the rustling had died down, Father Tiefer adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat to begin. Having no real knowledge of the bible you skimmed ahead in the readings to get an idea of tonight's sermon. Legal and moral practices with a dash of ritual and purification should you sin. Well that's about as holy as it gets you thought.

To be honest you didn't really listen to much of what he was saying. But you watched his mouth move. The way his collar rested against his throat as he preached the word. His lips forming over words somewhere in your distant mind. His hands gently resting on the podium or gripping the delicate pages of the bible. You certainly didn't miss the instances those red eyes would catch yours, hoping he didn't see the far away look in them. Sometimes it'd feel entirely too long that his eyes were locked on yours, almost as if he were preaching to you and you alone. But then he'd turn his head and look at the rest of the moderate gathering in the pews.

Not too much longer and the rustling began again, signaling the end of tonight's sermon. The crowd dispersed, a few straggling as to not miss their turn in the modest wooden confessional in the back of the room. Father Tiefer was gone from the pulpit and you assumed currently offering absolution. You took your time grabbing your things, deciding to stroll around the perimeter of the room. You eyed the various paintings depicting holy stories and watched the sunset cast colors through the stained glass windows. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been staring at the one above you but hearing the clearing of a throat you turned and noticed the empty room. Save for Father Tiefer standing beside you also looking up to the window. 

“Funny isn't it? These things hit home sometimes and you don't even know it.” He laughed humorlessly. 

Your eyes trailed from the depiction of Lucifer being cast from the heavens to look at the aging priest beside you. Fine lines littered his weary face and he smelt subtly of whiskey and stale cigarette smoke. It almost made you wonder what he did when he wasn't in the house of God. 

He turned to meet your gaze and you saw a glimmer in those ruby eyes. Amusement? 

“It appears you're what's left of tonight's gathering, did you want to take the opportunity to confess your sins before I pack it up for the night?” His strong Louisianan accent drawing out all his vowels and drawing you in closer. Like a canary in the cats grasp you felt a shiver down your spine. He shouldn't look so hauntingly inviting simply asking you to confess your sins.

You huffed out a nervous breath, a flush crossing your cheeks. 

“U-uh, I- I mean sure why not? It's my first time confessing though so I'm not exactly sure how to go about this,” you trailed off looking at your feet. Your shoes suddenly much more interesting than the man beside you.

“Don't you worry that pretty little head now I'll guide you,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the booth. Was that mean to sound as suggestive as it came off? Surely not he's a man of the cloth for Christ’s sake. 

You parted the red velvet curtain and knelt on the space designated for you, the older wood providing a low creak with the addition of your weight. You folded your hands and looked through the lattice separating you and the Father. With little light you could barely make out his profile against the curtain. He turned his head just a fraction and began to speak.

“Well I'm sure you've at least heard this beginning part a time or two.”

“Oh yes of course. Sorry,” you added softly. You inhaled deeply through your nose, dust and aging upholstery lingering. “Forgive me father for I have sinned, this is my first confession.”

“Indeed child, what was it you'd like to confess?” That kinda set you back a moment. What did you want to confess? You weren't exactly a bad person and you didn't think you had sinned too terribly much. What did people usually confess about?

“Ah well, that's actually where I'm a bit stuck Father. I'm not sure what it is I need to confess.”

“You have not even an inkling as to what to tell me?” Did he sound irritated? “Any idolization, blasphemy, sins of the flesh?” 

“S-sins of the flesh Father?” You felt your body temperature raise a bit.

“Lust, impure thoughts, fornication outside of marriage?”

“No!” You chirped a little too loudly, blush even brighter. “Sorry Father, no I'm still virginal,” you trailed off. You thought you heard a chuckle from his side of the booth

“As you should be my child.” You watched the silhouette of his long fingers reach for the cross at his chest. “So have you really nothing to confess my dear? Simply wasting my time?” The edge in his voice was not lost on you. It frightened you but you were intrigued. You wanted more. You pressed your luck.

“No Father, I must admit I have had some lustful thoughts.”

“Oh have you now?”

“I fear I may be attracted to men of the cloth in the most unholy way Father,” you can't believe you just said that. Heat flooded to your face and down below. Tiefer’s side of the booth remained still. Sure it was a joke but not at all a fallacy. Just as you were about to apologize he stood up quickly. You thought it had angered him and he was leaving but the curtain on your side of the booth was quickly yanked aside. You gasped and quickly turned to see him leaning against the wood.

“You know I don’t quite buy your innocent bullshit.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket leaving it to rest between his lips while he grabbed his lighter, the flame casting an eerie glow on those red eyes.

“Father I-”

“Shut your mouth,” he interjected. “I don't want to hear it. I don't have time for these little games and acts you want to put on. You're making a mockery of my life's work and you think it's funny don't you?”

“No! I-”

“Enough you little tramp.” He puffed out a large cloud of smoke into your face causing you to hack violently. Without warning and the cigarette still in his mouth he yanked you from your knees and pinned you against the wooden wall. He held your arms above your head with one hand and began lifting your dress with the other. Your arms were beginning to feel numb and you felt panic set in. Isn't this what you wanted? Why were you so scared? This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

“Father Please!” tears began pricking at the corners of your eyes and your heart was racing, you could vaguely feel the pulse in your fingers as the blood left them. But he didn't say a word. He met your eyes and all you saw was animalistic rage. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and jammed it into the flesh of your torso before you could react, the now extinguished butt falling to the floor. The shriek that left your mouth filled the tiny room and spilled into the cathedral. The tears were now flowing freely and your mind buzzed. You could smell your own burnt skin. He growled and forced you back on your knees.

“Such a big mouth yeah? Put it to use,” he demanded. He gripped your cheeks and forced your jaw open, leaving your lips in an uncomfortable “o” shape. You heard the jangle of his belt as he began freeing himself from his pants. He was only at half mast but the girth was impressive and you weren't quite sure how he'd get it into your mouth with it being held in place. The tip now rested at your lips before he suddenly brought his hand down across your face and sent you reeling, pain now blossoming across your cheek. You looked up shocked but all he said was “Mind your teeth whore.” and grabbed your chin, bringing you back up to meet his cock.

You managed to relax your jaw and he slid himself in. He gave a few shallow thrusts before he steadied himself and picked up his pace. He was hitting the back of your throat now causing you to gag around his quickly engorging cock. Drool ran down your chin mixing with the leftover tears. He grunted as his hips met your lips and dropped the hand still pinning your hands above you, grabbing your face with both of his hands. You took the opportunity to place your now numb hands against his hips in a futile attempt to steady his thrusts. His breathing came in heavy pants and you could feel him twitch against your tongue. Despite how uncomfortable you were you felt heat pool between your legs again and you squirmed to relieve some of the pressure. Sensing your growing arousal Tiefer suddenly pulled back leaving your mouth hanging open and your drool dripping off of him. 

“Of course you're enjoying it,” he sneered. “Whore of Babylon.” He gripped you by your throat, bringing you to stand upright again. Except he didn't loosen his grip. He pinned you back against the wall and brought himself flush against you, staring into your eyes with unbridled hate before shoving himself off of you. “Go,” he said pointing out of the booth. You stood there with a mix of confusion, lust and fear crossing over your features before you left the booth and made your way to the front door.

“How dense can you be, did I say to leave my church?” Contempt filled his voice.

“No Father.” You could feel your lip quiver.

“That's what I thought. I want you face down on the altar and I want you to do it now,” he commanded. 

You hurried your steps through the pews to the altar stopping at the front. With shaky hands you lowered your top half against the altar, ass high in the air. He seemed pleased because as he walked up he gave it a hard smack that could be heard echoing off the high ceilings. He lifted your dress high up your back and your heard the shhk of a blade being opened. Fear settling in your stomach you turned to quickly face him but he grabbed your hair and forced your face against the hard cloth covered wood. 

Panicked breaths escaped your throat and you whimpered as you felt the cool steel trace your back, ending at your panty line. He ran the blade underneath, running over your ass before he jerked it sharply up, cutting clean through your underwear and leaving you exposed. 

There was a long pause and you tried to turn your head to see what the problem was but Tiefer’s long fingers still wound in your hair prevented any movement. Suddenly you felt one of those long fingers tracing down your slit and pull away. You were about to voice your concern when he brought the finger to your face. Your gaze focused and you saw it. Dark crimson coated his finger and the horror and realization made itself apparent on your face. In the midst of things you must've not felt it or confused it for arousal. 

“Father I'm so sorry please forgive me, I didn't know I really didn't.” Your voice shook.

“You really didn't pay attention to our sermon today did you?”

“No, I- AH,” you squealed as you felt him press into you and force himself inside. He pushed harder on your face and you felt your cheekbones digging into the altar. 

“Leviticus 18:19,” he grunted. “Do not approach a woman to have sexual relations during the uncleannes of her monthly period.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he began fucking into you. A muffled moan escaped your lips as you felt the warmth return to your cunt. Tiefer grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you closer to him arching your ass higher in the air allowing him to hit you just right. You felt so full and the euphoria the white-haired man behind you was bringing to you was making your brain feel fuzzy. With his hands now on your hips you were able to raise your head and turn to meet his gaze. Hair falling into your face but the pleasurable feelings gave you a spur of confidence. 

“Technically Father Tiefer..” He angled himself just right again making you moan out and you had to bite your lip to collect yourself. “You did know I was bleeding before I did so I believe you have some explaining to do with God,Leviticus 18:19,” a quiet breathless laugh left your lips.

“You absolute cunt,” he growled and shoved your face back into the altar. He continued his rough fucking into you as you felt the cool steel again tracing your skin. Only this time it danced across your lower back, sharp side down. Your breath quickened but you weren't prepared for the white hot sting accompanying the blade. You cried out as you felt it drag down and once more across. You could feel the cool blood running down your back and tried to quiet your sobs. He paid no mind though, he was busy licking the liquid gold from his blade. “Now bitch, how about a little penance?”

He quickly pulled out and flipped you onto your back, the still open and tender wounds catching on the bunched fabric below. “I want to look at that pretty, swollen, snot riddled face while you do this.” He grabbed your throat again letting his tight grip rest under your jaw as he maneuvered his cock back into you. A groan caught in your throat as he thrust sharply back into you. 

“I want one Hail Mary from you, right now,” he huffed out. You looked up and met those red eyes of the man atop you. Sweat scattered over his brow allowing bits of his snow white hair to stick to his face. You'd never seen someone so beautiful and so feral. The grip around your throat tightening snapped you back to attention.

“N-now?” you managed to squeak out. You could feel your face becoming red and hot and you felt like floating. 

“Did I stutter?” anger flashed across his face. You felt those long fingers slide under you and trace the open wounds on your back. Fingertips toying with the edge of your flesh.

“No! No I'm sorry Father please don't!” panic flooded you and new tears pricked at your eyes. You gritted your teeth. “H-hail Mary….f-full of grace,” 

“Louder cunt let the good Lord hear you!” Tiefer relaxed his grip allowing you to continue.

“The Lord is with thee!” You couldn't help the moan that escaped your throat. “B-Blessed art thou among women,  
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb...” you snaked a hand down between your connected bodies to toy at your clit, ignoring the dirty look the Father shot you. “...Jesus!”

“Holy Mary Mother of God!” an extra sharp thrust caused you to twist your face and cry out. “P-pray for us sinners,” you could hear Tiefers breathing get more ragged and felt his pace increase. Your own pleasure was building heavy in your abdomen. “Nnngh now…. and at the hour of our death…” He grabbed your chin in his hand and yanked your head to the side exposing your neck before he bit down on it. Hard. 

“Amen!” And with that the Father let out a deep groan and his hips stilled, emptying himself inside you. Your own orgasm wracking your frame just seconds after.

Still propped on his hands above you, Tiefer finally pulled out and huffed, trying to regain his breath. He straightened up and finally locked his cold eyes onto yours. You were a mess and you could feel the mixture of blood and cum running down your ass and pooling on the altar beneath you. Face bright red you shot up and tried your best to cover yourself.

“It's a little late for modesty don't you think little bird? Now get off my altar before I make you pay the dry cleaning bill on that damn cloth.”

You didn't even want to think about the story he'd have to pull out to explain those stains. 

You slid off the altar and back on the carpet, legs shaky and aching at the joints but still surprisingly whole. He must've known what your next question was because when you glanced at him he huffed and looked more put out than anything. 

“Bathrooms next to my office, don't get your blood everywhere and I'll be in there in a second to clean your wounds.” Before you could say anything else he'd already turned around and pulled the cloth off the altar and situated himself. Not a hair out of place. 

•

You couldn't help but gasp as you met your reflection in the old mirror. Your hair stuck out in a disarray and what little eye makeup you had on was newly located across your face. Violet speckles beginning to form in the shape of long slender fingers graced your throat. 

That was hardly the worst of it. 

After cleaning your face and the mess between your thighs your mind was drawn to the stinging on your back. You turned to get a look at it in the mirror and gasped.

“Oh no…”

There carved into the small of your back and roughly the size of your palm was Saint Peter’s cross. You gingerly touched the irritated skin around it when Father Tiefer opened the door.

“Oh good you're ready to clean it.”

Not waiting for any response he pulled a flask from his robes and unscrewed the cap. Walking towards you he grabbed your neck and bent you over the sink. He lifted the bottom of your dress again, giving him better access to the wounds he inflicted. 

“Now hold still or you'll make this a lot worse on yourself.” And with that he proceeded to pour the remaining contents of the container onto the angry flesh.

New tears sprang to your eyes and you couldn't help the high whimper that was pulled from your throat but you refused to cry. “You fucking asshole…”

He grabbed some rough paper towels and patted your new bodily adornment down before tossing them into the bin. It was a shoddy job but he was a shoddy priest and shouldn't have expected a quality first aid. 

Those cold red eyes met yours once again in the mirror. 

“So I'll see you on Sunday.” It wasn't a question of course. “I'll have to check in on that injury of yours, and if you think one half-assed Hail Mary was enough for absolution, you've got another thing coming darlin’. Now if you'll excuse me I have to clean the smell of cunt from the confessional.” And with that he backed out of the bathroom smirking, leaving you still bare-assed and bewildered in the church bathroom.


End file.
